Date: Thu, 17 Jan 2002 22:14:16 +0000
From: Bridget 69_2
Subject: Wrestling Tournament (2)
After our mutual climaxes Pia slid off my lap to sit beside me, and with our
erotic hunger now satiated, we were able to watch the next few matches while
concentrating entirely on the wrestling contents. It didn't take long
though, before our concentration was put to a serious test. A blonde
Austrian wrestler was giving a young Swedish girl a difficult time. She was
squatting between the Swede's widespread legs with a firm grip on her butt,
and as the Swede bridged high, she was pressing her crotch directly up
against the Austrian's. A most welcomed position in lovemaking for most
girls, and Pia was no exception. She put a hand on my thigh and whispered:
"Mmmm! I could use my boyfriend right now!". We exchanged a lewd smile, both
getting hot again.
During the following matches Pia found it more and more difficult to sit
still - and to keep her hand still. It was roaming up and down my thigh,
sometimes pressing down between to rub the crotch of my jeans, which made it
difficult for ME to sit still. As I looked, I noticed that she had worked
her hand underneath her shirt and was fingering her nipples and knew that
she would have more than one orgasm before the day was through. She put her
tongue in my ear and seductively whispered: "Can't we go down and wrestle?
I'll SLIDE down the bench if we don't!". The sight of the wrestling plus
Pia's hand on my crotch had had its effect on me too, but I decided to tease
her a bit first. I turned my head and now it was her turn to have a wet
tongue in her ear. "I thought we were here to watch the wrestling?". Pia
moaned deeply and whispered back, almost desperately: "I don't wanna WATCH
no more ... I wanna WRESTLE ... I wanna feel sweaty boobs slide against mine
... strain in tight holds, bridge up against supple forms, feel my pussy
wetten ... I wanna ...". "You fucking lesbian wanna be wrestled into
screaming orgasm by some big-boobed, tight-assed teenage girl!". That
stopped her, and we both grinned at my kind of clinical analysis. "Yessss!
Please! Or maybe wrestle HER into screaming orgasm!", Pia sighed with a neat
red blush on her cheeks. "But I prefer OLD women like you! And I'm NOT a
lesbian! You ask my boyfriend!", she added with another grin - not even
hearing my own protesting: "I'm NOT old!".
No more torture, I thought, and off we went to the training hall we'd seen
when we arrived. We both wanted a bath first, and the sight of each other's
naked body didn't exactly quench the burning feeling inside of us. I KNOW we
shouldn't have, but we just couldn't help getting into a very tight suplex
clinch under the shower letting our lips meet softly. The feeling of our wet
bodies pressing together, nipple to nipple, made both of us moan slightly,
and as I slid my thigh between Pia's, she increased the strength of her grip
and our kiss deepened. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply through her
nose.
The tension grew quickly as our hands began roaming all over the other's
body in a frenzy of activity. My hands squeezed Pia's tight buttocks,
pulling her pussy closer to my thigh. Pia's hands were on my back, then my
shoulders, then down to my butt and legs as her hips began to undulate,
rubbing her pussy against my thigh. The pressure of our touch got rougher
and rougher until we were virtually hugging and squeezing the other's body
in a tight clasp. Pia came without warning, in a frenzy of rigid muscle,
clutching limbs and swelling breasts, almost sucking the tongue out of my
mouth in the process. Our legs were almost unable to carry us, so we just
leant against one another, holding each other up while Pia slowly recovered
from the throes of her passion. She placed her chin on my shoulder and
whispered: "Wow! I really needed ...". Her body jerked, and she was suddenly
face to face with me again. "Don't look! But there's a girl in one of the
other showers!". I felt blood rush to my cheeks, but couldn't help turning
my face. In a shower booth 5 meters away stood a shapely little blonde -
natural, I couldn't help noticing - soaping her body while looking at us
with a slight smile. Due to the noise from the running water, we hadn't
heard, and for the second time that day, I wondered for how long she'd been
standing there.
Somehow we got out of each other's arms - and of the bathing room, and while
we were dressing, Pia looked at me - smiling: "You didn't come?". "No", I
answered, "I'd like to save a little for the wrestling mat!". Pia grinned
provocatively and wiggled her ass: "I've got plenty more!". Lovely,
insatiable Pia!
Not many wrestlers train in their singlets, so Pia and I just put on our
skimpiest tanga briefs and thin T-shirts, tight enough to show the swell of
our full, thrusting breasts, and loose enough to allow a pair of probing,
groping girl-hands to slide under it to test the firmness of our forms. The
deep V-cuts at the front and back presented half of our breasts, our
cleavages and muscled backs to full extend, and the narrow shoulder straps
had another advantage which I just wanted to check with Pia. She stood in
front of me, stretching, flexing, turning around, then spreading her arms.
"How do I look?". My admiring glance made my comment superfluous. "Fairly
fuckable!". Spreading my arms I smiled invitingly at Pia: "Remember the
strap-trick?". Sliding into my arms in another suplex coupling, she sighed
playfully. "How could I ever forget! Let's beat the record!". I started to
count the seconds while we tightened our holds and writhed our torsos. At 12
Pia's straps gave up the task and slid down her shoulders, and at 15 mine
did leaving us bare-breasted together. "We DID it!", Pia exulted, without
stopping her sensuous writhings. She licked my lips and tried to get a thigh
between mine. "Mmmmm! Just a quick one? Right now?". Placing both hands on
her hips, I pushed her away from me. "NO! Don't you EVER get enough?", I
laughed. Pia looked at me with feigned shyness. "Sorry! I just got to think
about when you taught me that trick!".
Rearranging my shirt, my mind flashed back to the sweat-smelling training
room of our wrestling club, to our first meeting, my first tentative
groping-attempts on Pia. I remembered how my first 'accidental' but firm
grip on Pia's breast had immediately been repaid by a just as 'accidental'
and firm hold around my buttocks, how she had retaliated my hand's light
brush over her crotch by simply cupping her palm tightly over my pussy when
she had me in a cradle. How our mutual feeling up had accelerated
explosively until I finally got Pia down on the mat, lying on top of her
sweaty body with our legs tightly intertwined, both feeling a muscled thigh
rub seductively against our pussies. How Pia had lain there with her back
strongly arched, in a lithe half-bridge, keeping her shoulders off the mat
while we hungrily stared at each other with hooded, sultry eyes, as our
rhythmic rubbing increased, straining up her sweat-gleaming globes against
the fiery writhings of my own torso, till our clothing had finally given up,
making naked breast feast on bare boob. How the feeling of stiff nipples
merging had instantly made us both gasp and come perfectly simultaneous in a
violent series of never ending orgasms. How ...
"Helloooo! Anybody home?". Pia stood there smiling, waving a hand in front
of me! I was back. "Mmmm," I smiled. "Just thinking back! Let's go
wrestling!".
* * *
A lot of activities were going on in the training hall. All the senior
wrestlers weren't competing until the next day, so around 60 girls were
socialising and practising on the two mats spread out. Pia and I sat down in
a corner just to get acquainted with the place. At first sight all the
socialising was purely friendly, and all the training was purely wrestling,
but a closer look revealed lots of flirting leading to physical mat-action
in the tempting borderland between wrestling and eroticism.
As I looked over the mats, I saw couples holding hands or with their arms
around each other, many wearing the same skimpy outfit as Pia and I - a
clear sign of lust for close body contact. At times a hand would wander down
from a waist to cup a tight buttock or brief kisses exchanged. Some girls
were very obviously on the prowl, licking their lips provokingly, brushing
against a hunted prey, hoping to be invited to a sweaty roll on the mat.
Foreplay was everywhere, as girls stared at each other, bumping each other,
chest against chest, or even moving their waists, making vague humping,
challenging motions at each other with their lower body. When mutual
interest arose, the pair would quickly start practising wrestling holds in a
standing position, taking turns in throwing each other, gradually spending
more and more time in the tight entanglements ground work provided, checking
out each other to see just how far the other was willing to go into the
promised land of fully consummated seduction.
There were many of these more or less obvious seduction-duels going on
before my eyes. Mostly one girl would signal her 'surrender', before the
action got so hot that her loss was elucidated by a more or less
successfully concealed orgasm, and the other would rise with a content
smile, knowing that she had won the duel 'by points'. But not always.
Sometimes none of the girls wanted to 'submit', either because one was so
carried away that she had crossed the point of no return and just HAD to go
all the way, or because each sensed that the other was just as close to
climax as she herself, and that she could make her come and win 'by fall'.
On rare occasions the result would be a 'draw' like I had experienced myself
during a tournament in France, where a German girl and I had wrestled each
other into a simultaneous climax. I'd had her pinned at the moment of
climax, so despite the 'draw' I had sort of won.
Of course these 'to-the-end'-duels drew my greatest attention, and before
long I had witnessed an Italian girl winning 'by fall' over a Swede, both
with blushing cheeks and nipples sticking out, using her thigh between the
latter's legs, and seen a Pole bridge for a very long time beneath a
smaller, Tunesian wrestler, with undulating hips, until the upper girl began
to spasm and jerk, whereupon the Pole writhed her round and pinned her.
Wrestlers usually avoid girls in their own weight category, as the clear
advantage of having 'had' the other could be useful if they were to meet in
the tournament the following day. Therefore these 'unofficial' matches were
often fought between girls of different weight.
My mind popped back to the presence as I realised that Pia was talking. And
it was not to me. The blonde who had seen us in the bath was sitting
opposite Pia, with crossed legs, chatting. She was Norwegian, and her name
was Mary. We all chatted for a while, and I felt my cheeks blush a bit as I
thought of how much she had actually seen of Pia and I under the shower.
When Mary found out that Pia wasn't competing, the two started to flirt, and
I just enjoyed 'the show', reading their body language. Soon they were
flexing their torsos towards each other, each staring at the growing twin
points pressing insistently against the other's shirt, signalling mutual
interest, and I knew that both were thinking: "Wow! I can make her nipples
stiffen even without touching her!".
Mary seemed to be of the same age and weight as Pia - around 50 kg, a bit
taller, with slightly smaller breasts than Pia's rather swelling C-forms.
She was wearing very minute orange briefs and a white T-shirt that wasn't
quite as deeply cut as Pia's, but as she 'carelessly' adjusted it a bit and
arched her back, she nevertheless displayed almost half of two nicely shaped
boobs. A closer look told me that she was not a natural blonde after all and
that she therefore bleached her pubic hairs too.
When their eyes weren't eagerly wandering over the other's body, clearly
admiring the sight of the quivering and flickering muscles on bare arms and
shoulders, taking in the swelling firmness of two hard-tipped mounds, they
locked glances, their eyes doing a lot of communication. I chuckled softly
inside, deeply fascinated by this 'mating-process' that takes place each
time two girls are checking out each other to determine if the other is
ready for a bit of fun. And both Mary and Pia definitely were! The
'look-stage' was quickly followed by the 'touch-stage'. Pia made the first
step, putting her right hand on Mary's left knee, and Mary was right behind
her, gripping Pia's right upper arm with her left hand, making Pia's hand
slide from her knee up her thigh. During this they were talking, quietly and
intensely, discussing various details about various wrestling holds, and I
chuckled some more. If you begin to discuss wrestling techniques with a
wrestler, the next stage is inevitable: a demonstration on the mat.
I didn't have to wait for long. The discussion was about the danger position
and how to avoid being pinned when at the bottom. Mary raised herself to
kneeling position, sitting on her heels, then she spread her legs and slowly
arched back, leaning the back of her head against the mat, arms above her
head, her heels under her butt in a graceful half-bridge. I could see that
Pia's gaze had been drawn down, her eyes wide and bright, to focus between
Mary's widely spread thighs, fully enjoying the sight of the narrow front
piece straining over the swell of the pubic arch. Without altering the
position of her lower body, Mary raised her head, leaning on her elbows,
smiling at Pia who was still staring at her crotch, then letting her glance
glide slowly and caressingly up the flat belly, now bare, as the T-shirt had
slid up when Mary stretched her arms above her head, further up over the
curves of the chest to lock with Mary's playfully shining eyes. Then,
holding each other's gaze for just that split-second longer than 'normally',
Mary made her challenge: "Bet you can't take me!".
I was on cloud nine and felt a strong tingle in my crotch, watching the
blonde stretched out on the mat in the provocative position, her mouth
slightly open, her eyes hooded and sultry, inviting Pia to 'take' her. The
word could be understood in a pure wrestling sense, but certainly also in a
more intimate one, and knowing Pia's weakness for tight, sweaty body contact
with another girl, passionately writhing together in static, straining
danger positions, knowing too that Mary had given all the right signs, so
that each could explore the other's supple, muscular body as it pressed
firmly into hers, and didn't have to hold back, I knew she would go for the
latter.
Without breaking eye contact, Pia slowly got up onto her knees and started
to shuffle towards Mary, and I awaited breathlessly to see which hold Pia
would choose for the physical duel.
(As English is not my first language, please bear with the spelling! :-))
(Not much response to the first part, so maybe I've better stop here.)